


Release

by odair_goes_my_sanity



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Other, and the others are just mentioned, it's like a study of newt as he turns into a crank, just an idea i had, newt centric, thomas is briefly in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odair_goes_my_sanity/pseuds/odair_goes_my_sanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A study of Newt, and what happens to him between making it to the Crank Palace and his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just an idea i quickly had, I hope you enjoy it!  
> This is the first kind of thing i've ever written like this- just a study of a character, no relationships or main events, just following Newt's story from the death cure, so i hope it's okay and that you like it

The sunlight burns his eyes and in an odd way he enjoys the pain; it reminds him that he’s here, he’s alive- for now at least. He’s been staring too long and flickers of gold filter across his vision, dancing with the shadows of the dusk, caressing the sharpness of the stones of the ground. He stares back up at the horizon around him, noticing that the shapes have gotten larger and seem to be moving in a different way to what he remembers vision spots should. They appear in a perfectly straight line as if they’re walking in formation, purpose in every step, anger in their stance.

 _Soldiers,_ he thinks.

 _WICKED here to bring him back, torture him some more then throw him back to the dirt._ The thought triggers something in his head, and before he can process what’s happening, he’s screaming. He’s screaming so hard he can feel it tear at his throat, feel the tears racing down his cheeks, feel the burning of his heart. He can’t hear words, he can just feel pain. The curling of his fists, the buckling of his ankles, his face in the dirt.

Then a release. His body turning, eyes closing and opening and closing again, his heart slowing, breath hitching, some kind of peace, maybe even happiness. Eyes closing and opening, _the soldiers have gone,_ closing and opening, _and so has the sun_ , closing and opening, _I hope this is the end,_ closing and opening and closing again.

 

 

 

 

He awakes with a groan and a mouth full of gravel. His skin is burning from the sun, his throat dry from dehydration and his heart heavy from loneliness. Sitting up, he can’t fight the bitterness that engulfs him, _he’d really thought last night was it._ But of course not, he was still here. He picks at the scars that scatter across his hands, letting them bleed out, hoping to just feel _something._ But all he feels is numb.

It’s typical, he thinks; all he seems to ever want is death, yet all he gets is more pain. He can’t seem to ever get what he wants, yet what he wants is so simple. _He wants an escape._ That’s all it’s ever been about. He wanted an escape from the maze, from the hopelessness, from the repetition. All he wants now is an escape from the flare, from the loneliness, from the repetition. He starts everyday on the ground, a mouth full of dirt, only to then just stare at his surroundings feeling empty and angry yet numb at the same time. Then it will hit and he’ll feel anger, he’ll do things that disgust himself and he’ll fall into a pit of self-loathing over what he has become, what _he couldn’t stop himself_ from becoming. Then his breathing will slow, his eyelids will droop and he’ll feel hopeful that maybe this time, this was it.

 

 

 

 

He’s in a place he’s never been before, with no recollection of how he got there. There’s people surrounding him, staring at him, staring through him. He refuses to look at them for long, not because he’s scared, but because he knows that he looks just like them. _Crazed, in pain, broken._ And for the past few weeks he’d been living in denial, thinking that maybe this was a test, that he’d get better, see his friends again.

This new place was formed in the midst of broken buildings, scattered with rusted steel and shattered glass. He sees himself in the reflection of a tattered, dirty window; wild eyes, bloody hands, missing hair.

He throws a rock through the window, runs the other way, and swears he’ll never come back to wherever this was.

 

 

 

 

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

_Four_

 

 

He counts his fingers bending each one down as he counts it, his arm outstretched in front of him, the shape a dark silhouette in the strengthening sun. His eyes were glazed over, his head rolled to the side as he counted, the only sign of life the delicate whisper of a number and a stray tear rolling down his face.

He loses count and starts again.

 

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

_Four_

 

Bending each finger, whispering each number. He loses count and starts again.

 

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

_Four_

 

He wants to scream as he forgets the number that comes after four, again and again. Instead his mind wonders and the numbers turn into names, into ideas, into dreams.

 

_Minho_

_Tommy_

_Frypan_

_Teresa_

 

A ghost of a smile falls across his mouth, as he thinks of them and the warmth they bought. His smile fades as he thinks of more.

 

_Ben_

_Gally_

_Chuck_

_Alby_

 

His heart clenches, his breathing slows.

 

_Mum_

_Dad_

_Newt_

He stops and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to remember his baby sister’s name but his mind is a blank. He opens his eyes and drops his hand, letting it fall to the dusty ground.

 

He closes his eyes again, although this time a welcome sight greets him. Beautiful blonde hair, glistening brown eyes and a toothless grin. She squeals and runs up to him bouncing on tiny, chubby legs, mouth open in a delighted laugh. He picks her up and kisses her forehead, she excitedly exclaims that he had finally come home.  

 

 

 

 

He awakes from a dream, the first one he can remember having for god knows how long. He had dreamt of Tommy and Minho and laughing and happiness. He wishes he could see them again, but not like this, never like this. But as he stares down at his blood covered hands, he realises that he’ll always be like this, he’ll never be like them. He grabs at his hair and pulls, screaming and crying, his face in the sand.

 

 

 

 

He appears in front of him, and it has to be a dream. But it’s not and he’s really here, and he’s begging for him to come with them. And it’s too much, Newt swore that he’d never let them see him like this, and he’s reminded why as he sees the fear and disgust in his best friends eyes. And it breaks him, and like every other day he’s screaming and crying without really hearing what he’s saying. He’s on the floor on top of Tommy, and he can feel his mouth moving, feel his hand grab the gun in his friend’s hand, but he can’t seem to focus on what’s truly going on.

His heart is pounding and he thinks he can hear the ocean in his ears, and for a moment he’s lost as he remembers what the blue horizon looks like and he could have sworn he could smell the salty air, feel it spread through his lungs. But he’s bought back by screaming. By his screaming. But this time he can hear it, hear himself beg to be killed. He’s truly bought back as he sees the sadness in his friend’s eyes, the pain that he saw hidden away amidst the anger and madness in his own eyes when he stared at his reflection in that broken window. And he’s brought back, because he wants for it to go away, hates that he’s the one causing it. He stares once more, vowing to himself, that _this was it, this had to be it_ , he was done causing pain to those around him and he was done causing pain to himself.

_Please, Tommy, Please._

Then a release. His body falling, eyes closing and opening and closing again, his heart slowing, breath hitching, some kind of peace, maybe even happiness. Eyes closing and opening, _his friends have gone,_ closing and opening, _and so has the sun_ , closing and opening, _I hope this is the end,_ closing and opening and closing again.

**Author's Note:**

> As always kudos and comments are so massively appreciated.  
> and feel free to check out my tumblr, (maybe request something, or just talk it's up to you!)  
> Thank you for reading? <3


End file.
